


His Best Birthday

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fictober, mulder baby 2.0, mulder's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 09:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16343954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: What if the baby was born on Mulder's birthday?





	His Best Birthday

She’s been giddy for weeks. Mulder doesn’t care for his birthday, never really has. But the fact that Scully is so excited about it this year touches him.

“Tomorrow is your big day,” she whispers into his neck Friday night, grinning from ear to ear. She scoots closer to him, as close as she can get. She is huge this time around. Mulder tries to remember what she looked like when she was pregnant the first time, but the memories are blurry.

“So you’ve been reminding me,” he grumbles. There were times when he didn’t think he’d make it to 57 years. He looks at Scully, who is still smiling at him. 57 years and 25 of them by her side. He really is a lucky bastard.

“You’re only as old as you feel, Mulder.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’ll always be three years younger than me.” And she’s radiant. Pregnancy suits her. Her face is full, her cheeks round and pink. She says she looks fat, but she is the most beautiful person he has ever seen. She looks so much younger than her actual years. He on the other hand…

“Wait til you see what I have planned for your birthday,” Scully says with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The excitement is evident in her voice. “You’ll forget how old you are. Now let’s sleep. I need you to be well rested tomorrow.” Her grin is infectious. He kisses her just because, touches her belly where the baby is quiet, sleeping. They fall asleep wrapped up in each other.

“Mulder,” his name penetrates his sleepy mind. It can’t possibly be morning. It just can’t be. “Mulder, wake up.” Louder this time and much more persistent. When he opens his eyes he sees the outline of Scully’s figure. It’s not until the fogginess clears and his eyes focus that he sees the distress on her face.

“I’m in labor. The baby is coming,” she says, sounding miserable and suddenly he’s wide awake.

They - or rather Scully - packed the bag for the hospital a while ago. Just to be prepared. Mulder grabs it after throwing on a pair of pants and a shirt he hopes is clean. Scully is dressed in his Knicks t-shirt and her favorite maternity pants. She’s holding her stomach and he feels like he is not ready. This is all happening too fast.

“How are you?” He asks every five seconds, leading her out of the house and into the car.

“I’m all right,” she answers almost every time he asks. It’s something.

They make it to the hospital in record time; there are few cars on the road this time of night. Scully turns on the radio; he suspects it’s so he won’t hear her heavy breathing, her small, pained moans. As if he could tune that out. Some young country singer croons about love and rain. Mulder realizes that he doesn’t know anything about today’s music. The baby will have to teach him. He grins, thinking about it. Maybe Jackson can introduce him to the newest artists in the meantime.

“Are we almost there?” Scully interrupts his thoughts, her breathing far too quick.

“Almost,” he promises. He takes one hand off the wheel to hold hers. She squeezes it so tightly that he speeds up even more.

They put Scully in a wheelchair the minute they arrive at the hospital. They throw so many words at Mulder that he only understands half of it.

“The baby is coming right now?” He asks, dumbfounded. A doctor nods at him, a nurse hands him scrubs. There’s no time to prepare himself. It’s happening now. Right fucking now.

Mulder holds her hand and doesn’t let go. This is his second go at this thing. He should have been there the first time. He should have been. But he can’t change the past, neither of them can. He can only do this.

His head close to hers he whispers nonsense into her ear. He doesn’t know if she’s listening. He promises her to call Jackson as soon as his little sibling is here. He promises to teach their child baseball. And any other ball game. He swears he’ll love their child more than anything else in the world. Apart from her and Jackson, that is.

“I love you, Scully. I love you so much. You can do this. You can do this.” It becomes a mantra and then he hears a sound he knows he’ll never forget, no matter what. His daughter cries for the first time in her life, carving herself onto his heart forever.

“You have a daughter. Congratulations.” Mulder doesn’t hear or see anything else. Just the messy, wriggly baby they put into Scully’s arms. She’s crying, or he is. Maybe they’re both crying.

“She’s so beautiful,” he gasps, touching her arms, her toes, her nose. She’s perfect. “Welcome to the world, little one.”

“You have the same birthday,” Scully sobs. He tears his eyes away from his daughter to look into Scully’s. He falls into love with her again, a million times over.

“You couldn’t have planned this,” he says, in awe. He and their daughter share the same birthday. What are the odds.

“I didn’t,” Scully says, staring at their daughter. “I had this whole thing planned for you. There was supposed to be a party, I-”

“You just gave me the greatest birthday gift ever, Scully. The greatest gift, period. Thank you.” He kisses her sweaty brow, then their daughter’s head.

“Happy birthday, Mulder,” she whispers, kissing their daughter’s head.

A birthday to remember. Forever.


End file.
